Laughing Through Raindrops
by Mrs Rosa Riddle
Summary: Lucius does not understand why Draco loves the rain, but as long as he is happy, he doesn't really care. Contains incest. One-shot.


_**DMLMDMLM**_

Draco sat on the cold, moist grass in a cross-legged position, glaring at the cloudy sky as he dragged up muddy clumps of earth with the tips of his fingers. Thunder rumbled threateningly in the distance, and right on cue, rain started to pelt down to the ground. Water oozed between his fingers, dripped onto his forehead, splashed onto his clothes, but it did not feel unpleasant, he rather enjoyed the feeling. He stayed in the same place, as unmoving as a stone statue, he did not know how long he had been there, and he did not really care either. He didn't care about anything anymore, or anyone. He wanted to laugh, laugh as raindrops dampened his eyelashes and dirt seeped underneath his fingernails, but the rumors would be correct then, he really would be acting like a mentally unstable person. He could not even go shopping in Diagon Alley without a well-meant comment or a sympathetic look being passed his way, and as soon as he left, they would just shake their heads sadly and whisper, "Such a shame, used to be such a fine boy". Not anymore though, not anymore.

It did not surprise him when he felt a lean, almost spider-like hand on his shoulder, he knew that he would be forced back into the imprisoning four walls of home soon, but he loved to be outside in the open air, he felt free and at peace. "Draco, it's time to come inside" came the familiar drawl, and Draco shook his head in protest, burying his head in his arms and hunching up tightly. He loved his Father, so much so that he was _in_ love with him, but his Father would never understand how trapped he felt in Malfoy Manor, or any other building. "I don't want to, I don't want to" he sobbed, his body shuddering violently as he cried quietly. Of course he was ashamed of crying in front of his Father, his ice-cold, emotionless, beautiful Father, but depression seemed to seep into his skin, and all he could feel was sadness.

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"I know, I know, it's alright precious, shhh, don't cry" Lucius murmured, his voice heavily interlaced with a guilty yet soothing tone. "I apologize for leaving you alone, I thought you could handle it, I'm sorry" Lucius said, with a note in his voice that was almost pleading for forgiveness. Draco raked his dirty fingers through his wet hair, pulling at it viciously. His body started to shiver with cold, and suddenly the prospect of sitting in the rain, did not seem as pleasant anymore. He allowed his Father to gently pry his fingers away from his hair, and pull his body against his in a comforting embrace. "Everything is going to be alright now," Lucius promised, even though the situation was far from alright. "Please, let me take you inside, your cold, so cold…" letting his voice trail off, Lucius tugged his cloak off his shoulders, and draped it around his son's shuddering upper body. Nodding his head in agreement, the younger Malfoy spread his palms flat on the grass, using them to push his body up into a standing position.

His Father smiled at him warmly, a smile that was reserved only for him and nobody else. Sometimes others would be graced by a sinister smirk, but Draco was the only one who ever received a genuine, bright smile. Draco noticed how light seemed to radiate from his Father's body as he smiled, almost like a rare, exquisite piece of artwork, an angelic figure. Draco wrapped his arms around his newly cloaked body for warmth, observing the blonde man as he rose up from the grass with grace that only a Malfoy could possess. His usually perfected hairstyle had been banished by rain, and now the damp blonde tresses clung to his wet face. Without the cloak, his outfit was visible; he was clad only in black, smart pants and a silk shirt, formal for most, but casual for Lucius. Both items of clothing were soaked with rain and tarnished with mud, the shirt almost transparent, plastered against his damp chest and defining the taut muscles of his stomach.

If it was possible, and somehow it was, in Draco's opinion, his Father looked even more beautiful stood in the rain.

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Lucius strode over to his son, the unpleasant sound of damp earth squelching under every footstep as he glided with great difficulty, across the wet grass. He could not understand why Draco enjoyed the rain so much. He would look upon it with longing when he was in the warmth of home, contently listening to the raindrops as they pelted against the windows with an annoying thud. On the rare occasion he was outside in the rain, a beaming smile would overtake his pointed features, and he would stand motionless as rain pattered against him, reveling in the sensation. Of course he enjoyed seeing his son happy, but when he saw the shivering form, numb with the cold, he knew that he would always have to put his son's health before his happiness, and that thought caused a dull ache in his stomach.

Reaching the damp form of his son, Lucius took one of the hands in his own, leading him back inside. He felt a pang of guilt at the icy coldness of the fingers that were entwined with his own, and he vowed that he would never leave Draco alone again, even if the stubborn boy insisted that he would be ok. Once back into the thankfully warm house, Lucius let his eyes rake over his son, and then bit his bottom lip in worry. "Your exhausted, you need a bath and then it's straight to bed" he announced, ignoring the childish pout of protest that crossed his son's face. Settling Draco into an armchair overstuffed with cushions, Lucius started to prepare a hot bath for his son, rushing to his bedroom as an afterthought and hastily changing into the comfort of dry clothes.

Lucius then strode over to his son, the new pair of expensive, leather shoes clacking on the tiled floor as he moved. "Come on then, precious, your bath's ready," he said, gently grasping Draco's hand in his own and leading him to polished, marbled interior of the bathroom. "I still don't see why I can't have a bath on my own, I'm not going to slit my wrists whilst you're gone" Draco spat, wriggling out of his shirt as Lucius winced at the blunt words. "That's not the reason, I don't think your going to do that" Lucius protested, gently tugging Draco's bundled up shirt out of his hands and smoothing the material neatly between his fingers. "You don't trust me" Draco suddenly stated, and it sounded so full of accusation, so full of anger, that Lucius felt hurt and rejection form a pit in his stomach as tears welled up in his eyes. "Of course I trust you, it's not about trust" Lucius replied, only the slight wavering of his usually smooth voice betraying his emotions. "Then why?" Draco questioned, his eyes narrowing in frustration as he unbuttoned his trousers and stepped out of them.

Lucius blushed uncharacteristically, feeling his cheeks flush warmly as tears dripped down his face. "You know why, the medication makes you weak, you could collapse in the bath, that's why I was so wrong to leave you today-" Lucius stopped speaking and turned around in shame as sobs choked his throat. He was feeling a mix of negative emotions, guilt, hurt and sadness being strong factors, and he was almost thankful when he felt a pair of thin arms wrap around his waist.

"I'm sorry," a voice mumbled, as a head rest against his back, "I'm so sorry Father, I didn't mean to make you upset, I didn't take enough medication while you were gone, and I'm depressed, and I'm really, really sorry…" Draco continued to speak, repeating the words 'I'm sorry' until they became incoherent babblings. Eventually, when the tears had finally stopped falling from his eyes, Lucius wiped his damp face with the back of his hands, turning around to smile reassuringly at his son. "You have nothing to be sorry for" he insisted, stroking his fingers affectionately through the white-blonde locks as he sighed "get into your bath now, love, your covered in mud" he said, shaking his head in an almost fond gesture.

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Draco sat up in his lavish bed, a four-poster furnishing swathed in fine silks and soft velvets, oozing elegance and sophistication, although for the majority of the time, Draco felt anything but. His Father stood by the window, a pristine sheet of glass that overlooked the plush, neatly trimmed gardens. Suddenly, Lucius cleared his throat, and Draco welcomed the broken silence. "You should try and sleep" Lucius stated, turning around to meet his son's gaze, and Draco threw him a pleading look. "I'm not tired, sit with me?" he requested, smirking when his Father sunk down beside him in an almost obedient fashion.

Both father and son stared at each other, observing the details of each other's forms despite feeling slightly embarrassed and awkward. Draco noticed how his Father's hair had quickly dried, and was now hanging naturally like a long, silk curtain, shining slightly under the rays of sunlight. Lucius noticed how Draco's eyes were a unique mixture between blue and grey, almost like an ice-cold sea, and gazing into them caused an indescribable feeling to mount inside his stomach.

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Suddenly, without having time to think, both wizards lunged at each other, simultaneously crushing their lips together in a rough, passionate kiss. Letting himself melt into the sensations for a few wonderful, unguarded moments, Lucius then remembered just who it was that he was kissing, and reluctantly pulled back. His lips tingled at the absence, and he mentally cursed himself for losing his sense of control. "I'm so sorry, Draco…" he began, trailing off as Draco held up an elegant finger to silence him "your not taking advantage of me Father, I get depressed occasionally, but I'm not mentally ill, it may go against morals, but I'm 17 and capable of making my own decisions" and with those words, the younger blonde latched his arms around his Father's neck, and pulled him down so that their lips met in a hard, bruising kiss.

They kissed and clung onto each other as if their lives depended on it, rolling around madly as if experiencing seizures. "Take me, Lucius" Draco begged, his voice a lust-filled growl, "take me, I'm ready" he demanded, moaning loudly as Lucius delicately ran his fingers down his body in light, teasing touches. "Are you sure?" Lucius questioned, shrugging off his shirt and flinging it carelessly across the room, "tell me no now Draco, and we can forget it ever happened". Draco snorted at this statement and ripped off his pajamas, smiling reassuringly at his Father, "I've been waiting for years now, I _need _you inside of me, I'm yours, all yours" he said breathlessly, leaning up to lick the shell of his Father's ear.

"Yes" Lucius agreed in a gasp, finally giving in and embracing what he wanted, "your mine, and I'm yours".

A while later, two bodies clung to each other under the sheets, limbs entangled, foreheads pressed against each other and stomachs stuck together by a sheet of sweat. Draco panted softly as the ends of his Father's hair brushed his bare shoulders, tickling the skin with its smooth, silky texture. "Because of the medication?" Lucius wondered out loud, suddenly feeling self-conscious and in need of reassurance. "No" Draco insisted, trailing kisses down his Father's sculpted chest, and then peppering his pointed jaw with them, "because I'm in love with you". Both father and son drifted off into a dreamless, peaceful sleep, feeling a sense of belonging, as they lay entwined in each other's arms and smiling as they heard the soft pattering of raindrops.

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**A/N –Hmm, sorry if you had to endure reading this, I didn't mean for it to turn out so cheesy! :/**


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